


The Helping Hand

by halfpastmorrow



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-09
Updated: 2010-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 01:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfpastmorrow/pseuds/halfpastmorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney gets an unusual pet. Remix of <a href="http://skoosiepants.livejournal.com/109266.html">Once upon a furry octopus</a> by Skoosiepants</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Helping Hand

Danger was the one thing they never ran short of in Atlantis. A man could get blown up, shot at, or eaten by something large and slimy, even during downtime. That was why John had geared up for what should have been a lazy afternoon pottering around the farthest corners of Atlantis and why he bolted down the corridor at the sound of breaking glass.

It was difficult to prepare for combat in a place where anything could and did happen. Various scenarios and responses flickered through his mind as he ran, but it wasn't the sort of situation that could be solved by his P90 as it turned out. In fact, he wasn't quite sure what to make of things.

The room could have been any one of the hundreds of laboratories scattered throughout Atlantis, but the long central bench had been pushed askew, scattering the Ancient equipment across the floor, and shards of glass from the wall cabinets glinted from every surface.

John wasn't surprised to find Rodney in the middle of the destruction, face the color of a ripe plum, arms pin wheeling as he tried to shrug what looked like a large hairy muffler off his shoulders. But he was surprised to see three other members of the science team standing by the far wall, safely out of range and convulsing with laughter.

He had no clue what was going on, and no clue what to do next, and was still standing there metaphorically scratching his head when the thing moved. A long thin hairy tentacle separated itself from the rest of the mass, reaching up to squeeze Rodney's throat. Fear gripped John, and he grabbed for his gun and stepped slowly into the room, which quite naturally drew Rodney's attention.

He whirled in John's direction and his mouth worked for a moment, silent and furious, before the sound came rushing out. "What the hell are you doing? Are you insane? Put that thing away before you damage it."

_Damage it?_.

Nothing Rodney was saying made any sense to John, and he had met one too many mind-altering aliens in the Pegasus Galaxy to be fooled by a ruse that simple. He moved farther into the room, stalking Rodney in a wide circle. There was a lump just beyond Rodney's left shoulder that could be a head. He circled farther around and a large eye came into view, deep and black. It glittered ominously in his direction. He could feel it sucking him in, but it was an easy the shot. Or it would, if only Rodney would just _stand_ still.

But Rodney being Rodney didn't. He whirled to face John again. "Oh my God," he yelled. "That's you in a nutshell, isn't it? Shoot first ask questions later. Haven't you listened to a word I've said?"

"Now look, Rodney," John said, trying to keep the edge of irritation out of his voice because Rodney could be really irritating sometimes but now wasn't the time to let it get the better of him. "You aren't acting rationally. Think about it for a moment. You're over there being mugged by some sort of alien life form and you don't want my help. That scenario doesn't seem a little off to you?"

"A what? It's animatronic, you idiot. Which you would have known if you had bothered to check the life signs detector before you rushed in here. Don't tell me you didn't." Rodney slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand, and groaned. "What am I thinking? Mr. I-can't-see-a-bullet-without-wanting-to-hurl-myself-in-its-path, of course, you didn't."

"Hey," John said, because he still couldn't see what he had done to deserve that. "What did you want me to do; stand by and watch you get choked to death?"

"Do I look like I am being choked to death?" Rodney snapped. "Zelenka, get over here and explain it to him. Use small words. I'm sure he'll get it eventually."

"Uh," John said, because now that he thought about it the tentacle looked more like it was stroking Rodney's neck than squeezing. Plus Rodney had way too much breath for a person being choked to death.

Zelenka shuffled over at Rodney's bellow, still wiping the tears from his eyes, and started explaining as John holstered his gun. Rodney was giving him his patented 'well aren't you a moron' look, and John was feeling rather foolish and not really listening. It was all technobabble anyway, something about chips and Ancient text translations and unusual electrical signals... and weirdly enough electronic toys.

John grinned at Rodney. "All the things in the Pegasus that could get you, and you get taken down by someone's teddy."

"Oh yes, very amusing," Rodney said, with a twist of his mouth. "Now get over here and get it _off_ me."

*

It wasn't really a teddy, more like an octopus with dark brown fur and six spindly but surprisingly muscular legs. John did his thing, though, and rescued Rodney from its evil clutches. He had thought that would be it. That it would be taken back to the labs like all their other discoveries, and unless, by some sort of miracle, it turned out to be a secret weapon against the wraith or something, he would hear no more about it.

Trouble was the octopus turned out to be exceeding attached to Rodney - almost pathologically so - and trouble for Rodney meant work for John.

They were sitting in the mess not three hours later discussing the relative merits of the Indorian house fowl and chicken both of which had been used in tonight's meal. Apparently, Teyla was appreciating the richer flavor of the Indorian house fowl, while Ronon thought they both tasted like... well, chicken. Rodney on the other hand seemed to be gearing up for a speech on the wonders of earth food when he gave a sudden yelp and scrambled up onto the table.

John rose into a half-crouch, scanning the room for danger, but then Rodney started shouting, "Haven't you learned how to control that thing yet?" in the general direction of the zoologists.

Ronon bent down, grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and tossed it at John, which pretty much started the whole ball rolling. The octopus appeared completely docile once Rodney was out of sight. It twined its limbs around John's forearms and looked up at him, a despondent expression in its big dark eyes that didn't fool John for a single second. He knew trouble when he saw it.

None of the cages the science team devised seemed to hold the octopus for long. Over the next few days John went running every time his radio squawked, rescuing Rodney from where he was bailed up in his shower, the lab, a transporter, and on one memorable occasion his office where he was fending the creature off with a hand-carved Athosian stool. It all became old really fast.

"Well, don't just stand there," Rodney said, waving the stool at him. "Do your job."

John smirked at him, and said "You know, I'm not actually sure this falls within my job description. Risking life and limb in defense of mankind, sure. Saving the head of the science team from marauding cyber pets, not so much."

Rodney's mouth dropped open and John could see his blood pressure rising, but before Rodney got the chance to respond the octopus him by one of his ankles.

What followed was a furious three-way tug of war. The three of them ended up in a ball on the floor, John yanking furiously at the creature while Rodney slapped him around the shoulders and tried to pries his finger off, yelling at him to, "For god sake, go easy."

Eventually, John admitted defeat - it was too much to take on both Rodney and the octopus. He slumped against the floor, panting, and said, "Perhaps if you stopped giving it such mixed messages."

"All right, fine. Have it your way" Rodney said, and staggered to his feet cradling the octopus defensively in his arms.

*

Rodney seemed to become resigned to the octopus after that, if resigned meant he named it Ernie after a cat he had once owned and took to talking to it at odd intervals.

Still that would have been sufficient to make John relax, except Rodney forbade the science team further experimentation on the creature and began running late for meetings and generally disappearing for hours on end. All of which was so far out of character that it made John suspicious.

It had been a week, since Rodney had appeared for any training, so after searching for him in his lab, his office and the mess, John knocked on the door to his quarters and waited.

He could hear rustling and banging from inside, so he kept waiting... and waiting. And then after an interval almost long enough to make him decide to stuff manners and just force the door open, it finally slid open, though only about a foot, and Rodney appeared in the gap.

"Yes," Rodney said breathlessly.

"Are you busy? I thought you might like to..." John began, but then it dawned on him that Rodney was standing on his toes, and shifting around to block John's line of sight into the room, almost as though he wasn't alone in there. Almost as though he had a _girl_ in there.

When John peered over Rodney's shoulder, though, the only thing to been seen was the octopus. He frowned, and Rodney glanced back in that direction and paled.

"Sorry, I... Ah... I'm just... I can't," he babbled, and shut the door in John's face.

It was astoundingly rude even when you considered Rodney's usual level of rudeness, and John huffed angrily. "Whatever," he shouted through the door. It wasn't like he cared, or anything.

*

Five days later, John thumped hard on the door to Rodney's office. He was well and truly sick of what was going on and it seemed nobody else was going to do anything.

It whooshed back and Rodney appeared in the doorway, looking red-faced and annoyed. "What?"

John folded his arms and tried to top Rodney's annoyance with his own. "You missed the briefing on MX3-458 this morning. Elizabeth waited half an hour for you because she particularly wanted to discuss the nitrium pieces they are offering for trade. Perhaps you forgot that what with all the simultaneous crises you are handling today," he said, though he knew damn well he wasn't because he'd overheard Zelenka griping to Miko about all the extra work he was doing in the mess that morning.

"Well, obviously," Rodney said, and folded his own arms, but he seemed more confused than anything.

John wanted to make a snappy rejoinder, but Rodney honestly looked terrible, his shirt rumpled and spotted and his eyes bruised. And the screensaver on his laptop was flashing diagrams, formulas and schematics at him, which was never a good sign, and that damn thing was sitting on his desk, stealing pens out of his drawer. He grabbed Rodney by his shirt front, hauling out into the lab proper, and said "For crying out loud, get some sleep will you."

Rodney stared at him, like he had voiced a new and incomprehensible solution to their problems with the shield generator, but then shook his head and came back to himself. "Uh, right. Just let me get..."

"Leave it here," John said, grasping Rodney's shoulders and frog-marching him out into the hall.

*

The whole situation was getting ridiculous, and John figured if anyone knew what was going on it would be Zelenka, so after seeing Rodney to his quarters, John went back to corner him.

"So what's going on?" he asked, leaning a hip against the edge of Zelenka's desk.

Zelenka glanced up with a frown. "I don't what you mean."

"For a start, you could tell me what that thing is."

Zelenka gave a little cough. "Ah. Well, we seem to be having some trouble with the translation. The algorithm needs adjusting. The Ancients called it a helping hand, but it doesn't... I mean they wouldn't..."

"Helping hand? What like it does the dishes and picks up after you?" John asked, though he was fairly certain from the way Zelenka fidgeting that wasn't right.

"Yes. I mean no," Zelenka said, slowly going red, and just like that John got what he wasn't saying.

John turned away from him and scrubbed at his forehead. Well, didn't that take the cake? Rodney was apparently lonely.

"As I said there is a problem with the translation."

*

It wasn't John's fault that the creature had vanished. Sure, he had made Rodney leave it in his office, but he hadn't made the thing escape. It was all for the best anyway. Rodney would be better off without it, and when he worked that out everything would get back to normal.

It would blow over soon. It helped if he kept telling himself that, and in the meantime he could handle Rodney's baleful looks and Rodney blaming him for making Ernie feel deserted.

What he apparently couldn't handle was Rodney poking around in dark corners, calling the damn creature's name, and looking more and more despondent with every passing minute. He could survive Rodney's anger, but had no defense against his honest misery.

He didn't quite enter into full search mode, but he did shuffle Lewis off the patrol roster for the evening. And if he spent a little more time looking under desks and inside cupboards than was strictly necessary no one but him was any the wiser.

Perversely, he didn't actually find the creature, until after his shift ended and he was on his way back to his quarters. He wasn't looking for it particularly either, but there it was big as life right outside Rodney's door. Its tentacles slid back and forth obviously searching for a way inside.

John scooped it up. He considered knocking, but it was late and Rodney was probably asleep already. Best to just shove the creature inside and go, he thought. Less chance for drama anyway.

However, when he slid back the door, he found Rodney in bed reading a journal.

Rodney jumped a little when the door slid back, dropped his reading material to clutch the thin sheet to his chest, and scowled. "It's you."

John hesitated a couple of steps inside the room, holding up the octopus. "Found this outside your door. Thought you might want your..." He couldn't quite bring himself to call it Ernie, but he took a couple of quick steps forward and deposited the creature in Rodney's lap. "Uh, it back."

Rodney stroked the octopus, moving his hands carefully out from the head to the ends of the tentacles as though checking it for damage. His eyes, though, his eyes never left John's face.

John shoved his hands in his pockets when no reply was forthcoming. "Right then, I'll be off."

He had barely finished saying it when a couple of tentacles shot out, grabbed him by the upper arm and pulled him down, flat on top of Rodney. He must have seen something in Rodney's face, or so he thought afterward, because instead of scrambling to his feet and apologizing, he kissed Rodney. The amazing part was Rodney didn't punch him, or shove him off and onto the floor. Rodney kissed him back instead, and then took John's face between his big warm palms and kept on kissing him.

It was good, great even, but then things got even better because Rodney was touching him as well, faint fleeting caresses to his back, neck and thighs. And John was totally down with that, until brain started doing the math. He reared back a touch when a couple of somethings groped his ass, and said "Rodney, is that _your_ hand?" in a voice so high it hardly sound like his own.

Then it was Rodney's turn to smirk.


End file.
